Thursday, October 19, 2017

The Pace of Paperwork

Even if I take the bus, I have to
walk up and down this to get to
one of my schools.
When the bus does arrive, eventually, sometimes, on occasion, when the gods of this island, descended from Mont Pélée to direct our miniscule and insignificant lives, decide they're done smoking and drive out to get their passengers, I always try to stay focused on the road. Traffic here goes from 0 to 60, literally, unpredictably, so it's easy to miss your stop. That being said, I do still read the signs in the bus, just in case they're not from 2012 and actually do contain some pertinent info that I don't know.
I noticed almost immediately that, instead of buying a one-way ticket without transfers for 1,80 €, one-ways with transfers are available in stands for 1,25 €. Plus, those are sold are cards that can be charged with multiple trips, so I can save myself some trouble by buying several at a time. (For reference, the price of one trip on the Parisian transit system, when I was there was 1,10 € if you bought multiple tickets from the booth, which was in almost every station, and that system actually functioned properly.)
I also read that you could get a weekly pass for 10 €, which is pretty affordable. I spend almost that much on bus tickets each week, and I figured my trouble is worth some money, too. So, I be-bopped my happy ass down to the booth to buy one from the machine. No can do. So I go to the window and, after waiting in line, ask for one. The lady looks at me like I'm crazy. I point to the sign. "Oh, noooo, that's not possible!" exclaimed the lady, shaking her head. I insisted, pointing at the picture on the sign of the pass which very much should be available for purchase. She starting saying that just waaaasn't possible, listing off all the steps and procedures I'd have to complete to get one. Having played this game a few times with customer service representatives in other establishments on this island, and quite frankly being sick of it, I asked for a list of documents I needed, which she forked over. Copy of your I.D., copy of your electricity bill (which proves where you live - if you rent, like me, you need a letter from your landlord with their electricity bill and a copy of their I.D., which my landlord has previously refused to fork over), other nonsensical requirements. Now, mind you, I'm not trying to sign up for insurance (which took days), or a bank account (which took weeks), or sign a lease (which took weeks), or get my paperwork to start work (which took multiple trips to various school district offices). I just want a 10 € (= approx. $11.85) bus pass, which I'll have to glue my own damn photo to. You'd think I was asking to open a multinational.
On the plus side, when you walk
about town you see gems like this,
a contemporary, and somewhat
salty, mural about local claim to
fame Aimé Césaire, on the side of
the middle school named after him.
I took the list home and tried to figure out how I'd get another official passport photo made - that's harder to come by, here. Then I finally read the fine print on the back of the list. The weekly card doesn't refill itself. After all that, the form, the paperwork, the photo, the bus company doesn't even automatically refill your card. You still have to go, once a week, down to a booth, which are only in town, to refill the card manually. So, each Monday morning, you still have to buy a bus ticket or walk all the way into town.
I'm not getting a bus ticket right now. I can't deal with this crap.
Meanwhile, I still am not signed up for social security because the department of education did my application wrong, and the French government won't give me a rent subsidy, not because I make too much money, and not because my rent is too cheap, but because my apartment is too small. Too small. According to their estimator online, I'm otherwise eligible for 250 €  (= approx. $296.21) a month, but I can't have it because my apartment is too small.
Vive la France carribbéenne, y'all.

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